This is a merge of my 'Wanderer' blog that tells of two years of my three years on the streets, and a new blog that tells of my life after the Diocese of Winchester ripped through my life for for the last few years on top of the previous serious harm that left me homeless
This is a day to day blog of my life as I continue to survive, work on recovery and on the social problems that I have and try to come to terms with limitless traumas I have survived along the way.
This blog is in tandem with my blog about my experiences in the Church of England

The former name of this blog and the name of it's sister blog are to do with my sense of humour, which I hope to keep to the end, which appears to be ever more rapidly approaching. At least I laughed, and I laughed at the people who were destroying me. Don't forget that.

Here are my books, which I wrote for you if you would like to know more:

Tuesday, 29 November 2011

I just went to the dentist. Despite having been made ill by overanesthatisation by a dentist when I was younger, and having teeth needlessly extracted when I was a young adult, I am not really scared of dentists.

The dentist x-rayed my jaw, and it is wisdom tooth causing the problem, and it is the one that can't be removed. The dentist put some antibiotic stuff directly in the abcess and put a pad in my mouth to keep it there, I have to bite on this pad for 20 minutes and the antibiotic will stay there for a few days, I have to see the dentist for a review next week, but this is likely to be a recurring problem.

Dentists and doctors don't scare me, what does? Police, ambulances, Benefits offices and shopping.

Shopping is one of my worst things, when I go shopping I go because I need to, and I find it scary, so i talk to myself, the more scared I am the more autistic I am and the more I talk to myself.
It seems that when I go into a charity shop to look for clothes, especially in this county, people come and get between me and the door or stand and block the way so that I am trapped in a corner. I can't bear to be trapped, and the other thing that people do, especially in this county and city is that they play dodgems, if they can crash into you then they will, and my dislike of touch turns into terror of being barged into and shock if I am barged into.

so when I go shopping the other shoppers are treated to the spectacle of a tasmanian devil type person tearing through the aisles in the hope of grabbing the necessary things and escaping, muttering all the way.


Thats me shopping if you ever see a person like that and wonder if they are mad, no, I am technically not mad, just unable to cope with shopping, and the more nervous I am the more I mutter.


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